Monday, December 17, 2007

Only nine more days...

...and the Ghost of Christmas Future will be the Ghost of Christmas Past.

It's not really as if I want to kick the holiday shovel out of anyone's hand. Really.

Never think I am upset with anyone who has a wonderful Christmas, hell no. In fact, I'll be the one out in the snow -- so to speak; no snow here Where The Ghetto Meets The Sea, though we might have rain tomorrow -- applauding you and yours with absolute sincerity as you drink your eggnog, sing carols and open presents.

For more years than I care to count, I have either had no one around with whom to share the joys of the season or have been without the wherewithal to treat them as I wished. Or both, like this year.

I'm not in a mood to crash anyone's party. I've had an invitation or two in recent times that had an air of pity about it, and that's almost as difficult to bear as no invitations at all.

What makes matters worse, of course, is that those with real jobs -- writing and signing checks, for example -- seem to get a hell of a lot of days off this time of year. What the hell; doesn't matter if their Big Corporation is a few days or weeks late in making payments, does it?

But the worst thing of all is this: I want to be joyful, want to feel the Christmas spirit.

But it's not happening.

PARENTHETICAL I'M-NOT-TOTALLY-PARANOID-ABOUT-BEING-ABANDONED THOUGHT: I have my angels. Few in number, but no less cherished for that. The gifts and cards -- a couple more of the latter will be shown when I have daylight in which to shoot them -- have kept me from total despair, as did an unsolicited, incredibly heartwarming note I received today.

All I can say is this: if you are blessed with any or all of the traditional holiday experiences -- looking into the eyes of, and sharing a gentle kiss with, your love on Christmas Eve, having family and friends with whom to gather, and the rest -- never, ever take them for granted.

So far as I know, I never have done that, but they are gone anyway. I would like to believe I might have some or all of them next Christmas, but that's 373 days away, and since I thought the same last year, and the year before, my hopes are not high.

But I can dream. And wish all of you the beauty of the holiday that will bypass me again this year.

I still believe in Santa Claus. I just tell myself he's too busy making deliveries to good people to have time to stop here.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Awww... Scribbs. *HUGS*

The Christmas spirit isn't happeneing for me this year, either. In fact, I can't wait for it to be over.

Gill

John said...

It sounds like it's time to actively seek a change. Same ball, different game possibly. Just the process of deciding it could take away a degree of melancholy.
One way to make an interesting and memorable day is to get drunk and run through the streets naked wishing everyone Merry Christmas. Clever name dropping referencing Tiny Tim is a worthwhile embellishment. I guarantee it will be a holiday you'll not soon regret.
It may not have brought the goal but the year brought a little progress. If you somehow end up with a ticket to S FL come on down. Adventure guaranteed. Wimmins, not such a sure thing.

John said...

not soon forget. regret, that's another story. If it weren't for typos I'd have no type at all.